chat show
by x-Pick'n'Mix-x
Summary: Sherlock is bored and gets invited on a chat show. in an attempt to get rid of said boredom, he agrees. :D just a random fic. please R&R :D


**a/n: **here's another one from me :Dit just randomly came to me when I was thinking about one of my other stories, 'text messages', I have no idea why, but I got the idea to write this :)

Hope you like it :D

It's a made up chat show by the way :)

*John's POV*

"Tea?" I offered as I shuffled past Sherlock's form sprawled out across the sofa.

"Please."

I walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on before finding some mugs. As soon as I made the tea, I walked in and handed Sherlock his tea before sitting down in my usual armchair.

"bored." He announced.

"I'm sure a new case will come soon." I sighed.

"But I'm bored _now_." He replied childishly.

I was just about to retort when his phone started ringing.

"Sherlock Holmes… sorry?... why me?... I suppose I am… yes… I know… when?...right. Where exactly to I have to go?... oh you'll pick me up… on one condition. My friend John Watson can come with me… trust me, you'll need him there… right, good bye." He hung up the phone and looked over at me.

"Who was that?" I asked.

"Some woman wants me to go on a chat show." He replied. "And you're coming too."

"Wha- why would they want you on a chat show?"

"Because I'm, and I quote; 'a national treasure.'" He smiled.

"And why am I going?"

"Make it more interesting."

"For who?"

"You of course." I stared at him. "And me I suppose." He grinned. "The car will be round to pick us up within the hour."

"wha- I need to find a suit." I frowned and trotted up the stairs to my room before calling; "change your suit too Sherlock."

I heard a curse from down stairs and then his bedroom door slammed shut.

An hour later, we were both sat waiting in the living room, when someone knocked on the front door.

We both got up and walked to the front door. Sherlock opened it to a young lad dressed in a suit.

"Sherlock Holmes?" he asked.

"That would be me." He held out his hand and the lad shook it enthusiastically. "And this is John Watson."

"Alright?" I smiled and offered my hand, he shook it before gesturing behind him where a black car, similar to Mycroft's - but I expect Mycroft's one is more expensive - was parked waiting.

"Shall we?"

"absolutely." Sherlock smiled and we stepped out of the door, I shut it and we walked over to the car.

The lad held the door open for us so we climbed in and took a seat. Inside was a woman who was wearing a skirt suit and looking at a piece of paper.

The ride took around half an hour, and that half an hour was spent in silence, except for Sherlock telling me about how Mrs Hudson had stolen his skull. Again.

When we climbed out of the car, we were outside a large building with people walking in and out. We were led inside and shown to our host.

"Hello, I'm Christine Locke." She smiled.

"Sherlock Holmes." He smiled as he shook her hand.

"John Watson." I shook her hand as well before she continued.

"Right, you'll be waiting behind a wall that leads to the stage before I introduce you and you come onto the set and sit down. Okay?"

"right." Sherlock smiled and stalked off through a door."

"How did he know that's the right one?" she asked me.

"I have no idea." I offered and strode after him. When I found him, he was led across the sofa with his head rested on his finger tips.

"Show some respect for other people's stuff Sherlock." I sighed as I sat down on a chair near by.

"Dull."

Some people came in and dusted my head with powder, but when they tried to do the same, he swatted them away and told them not to be ridiculous.

After about five minutes of Christine talking, she called our names loudly and the crowd started clapping. Sighing, Sherlock rose to his feet and I followed him onto the stage.

We shook her hand again before taking a seat, Sherlock sat closer to her because I figured that would be the way they'd want it.

"So Sherlock, tell the audience exactly what it is you do."

"I'm a consulting detective. The police can't solve a case, they come to me. You'd be surprised how often that is actually." He smirked.

"You mean you do a lot of work for the police?" Christine asked.

"Not 'for' the police no. I solve the case, they get the credit and the paper work. It works out better that way for me."

She was about to ask him something else before he spoke again.

"Tell me, how was your trip to America?"

"My- what?"

"You recently went on holiday to America, so I was asking how it went." He looked over to me with a smirk. "I thought my question was obvious."

"How did you know about that? I wasn't aware it was on TV or anything." She replied.

"It wasn't. Your watch is for eight hours earlier than present time. So, you haven't changed it yet. But it was only a recent trip so I suppose you didn't have time to change it back, you use your phone instead." He paused. "Anyway, how was the trip?"

"Uh, it was great thank you." She replied, clearly awe-struck. She quickly regained herself and asked. "Have you ever been out of the country then?"

"Yes, plenty of times. France is terribly dull though, wouldn't you say?"

"i- uh, haven't been." She replied.

"Don't. It's dreadful. They eat frog legs for heavens' sake!" he frowned.

Have you ever been out of the country John?" she asked me.

"Yeah, I used to serve in Afghanistan." I smiled.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a doctor, but I help on Sherlock's cases too."

"I see. Have you been on any cases recently?" she asked Sherlock.

"Yes. Solved one last night. Horrendously easy. Didn't even leave my flat."

"You didn't leave your flat?" she pressed.

"Not at all. They told me the facts, I made the correct conclusion. It was obvious it was the nanny! I'm surprised they couldn't see it!" he shook his head before looking at her with a smile. "Well, enough about me. How are your violin lessons going?"

"My violin lessons?"

"Yes. I noticed that you've recently started playing the violin. There are slight callouses on your fore finger from the strings."

"oh." She looked down at her hand before turning back to Sherlock. "Well, they're fine I guess. Uh, anyway, we're here to interview you Sherlock. Has any one from the audience got a question?"

A couple of people raised their hands and she walked over to a man that was stood close to the front and held up the microphone for him.

"I've read your website, the science of deduction, and I was wondering if all the stuff on there is true? Can you really tell what someone does for a living just by looking at them?"

"Of course I can. For example, I can tell that you are a chef. You work in a small restaurant and specialise in meat. Am I correct?"

"Yes, how did… how did you know that?"

"Your hands! No one ever looks at the hands." He frowned. "You have a blue plaster that is on your right index finger which indicates you cut yourself with a knife and had to wear the blue plaster as company rules. I could tell you how I know the rest, but I doubt you'd be able to understand it." He waved his hand dismissively before looking out the window behind us.

Christine walked over to a woman and held the microphone up so they could speak. "Is it true you experiment on the bodies at the morgue?"

"Yes. But only ones that have given their bodies to scientific research after death." He replied simply.

"How come I've never hear of a consulting detective before?" another person asked.

"Because I invented it to make it so I could do I what I want." He sighed. "Honestly, if I knew it was going to be this dull, I would've been bored at home."

"Well, Sherlock, we've set up a little game for you to play." Christine smiled as she came over to us.

"Games don't amuse me."

"Okay, let me rephrase that, we have a mystery for you to solve."

"I doubt we could call it a 'mystery' but go ahead." He nodded.

"Right, we selected a few members of the audience to be suspects, they have picked up the ornament from over there," she pointed at a desk that was in the corner of the stage. "And moved it to here." She gestured to the desk in front of her, on top, was a small china statue. "You have to work out who did it."

"Very well." He sighed.

"Right, come on out guys." She called and 5 people trailed out of a room on the other side of the stage. I watched as Sherlock studied the way each of them walked.

"Start when you want." She smiled.

With a sigh, he rose to his feet, clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over to the desk in the corner. He looked over it for a minute before crouching down so that he was eye level. Still crouched, he turned and started looking at the rug that was placed there, he put his foot next to a spot on it before standing up and walking back over to us.

He looked at the statue on the desk for a moment with his magnifying glass, before walking over to the 'suspects'. Meanwhile, everyone in the audience was silent. He walked past them all as they stood in a line, looking at them from head to toe before crouching down and looking at their feet, then their hands.

He turned around and walked back over to us before taking a seat.

"So, who did it?" Christine asked.

"The writer." He replied.

"The what?"

"The writer, third man in from the left." He replied.

"Tell us why you think that and we'll tell you if you're right." She smiled.

"Oh, I know I'm right, but I suppose I can amuse you all." He smiled back.

"Right, first of all there was the rug. The rug had been caught by the man's foot as he walked and showed me that his feet were a size nine. Then I noticed that on the surface where the statue was before, there was a thin layer of dust, only slight though. Now, when I looked at the statue, I noticed a finger print on the side. When I looked at all of their feet, I noticed two were size nine, so I looked at their hands, the taxi driver had no dust on his sleeve and his fingers were to wide to have created the fingerprint, there for, it was the writer. He had a few specks of dust on his sleeve and his fingers were the right size."

Everyone was silent for a moment, letting the information soak in, before everyone in the audience, the suspects, Christine and even the camera men and people operating equipment etc., started cheering and clapping.

"That was brilliant!" Christine gasped, "You make it all sound so easy!"

"Because it is." He smiled and got to his feet. He offered her his hand, which she shook. I shook hers too and she called;

"Ladies and gentlemen, the magnificent Sherlock Holmes and is friend, Doctor John Watson." Everyone clapped louder and Sherlock leant forward and whispered to her. She looked shocked before thanking him and we left.

"What did you say to Christine before we left?" I asked when we were in the car on the way back.

"Just that her boyfriend is having an affair with the woman from make up." He smirked.

"Right, of course, how did I not guess?" I replied sarcastically.

"Because you're an idiot." He grinned.

**a/n:** what you think guys? Like it? Hate it? Let me know :D… or I'll cry… :)


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